


Escape (The Piña Colada AU)

by thealmightyavocado



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Escape, Father Louis, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by the song Escape (The Piña Colada Song), Loss, M/M, Oneshot, father harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealmightyavocado/pseuds/thealmightyavocado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis writes to escape. Harry answers to join him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape (The Piña Colada AU)

**Author's Note:**

> hello loves
> 
> so long story short, I was inspired to write this story after a wild ride home while listening to Escape (The Piña Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes. If you haven’t listened to the song please do, it’s an absolute classic!
> 
> I was instantly struck with how interesting and compelling the story is and me being a dark larrie thought, “hmmm this could sooooooo be Harry and Louis omg”. And after a little persuasion and meditation here we are! :)
> 
> I’d like to send a special shout out to my lovely sister who adores this song with her entire being and pushed me to write the story. I would also like to thank my beautiful and amazing beta, K, without whom I would be subject to the perils of poor punctuation and careless mistakes. haha
> 
> Oh and please come be my friend on [tumblr](http://avocadolouie.tumblr.com) ! We can cry about Louis’ perfectly fanned eyelashes or Harry’s luscious locks together aha!
> 
> I had so much fun writing this story, many ups and downs but I hope you all enjoy it! :)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I have no rights to the song Escape (The Piña Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes. All the characters in the story are fictional depictions of real life people. Not real ect ect ect ;)

6 months.

6 months of feeling unheard. 6 months of empty conversation. 6 months of casual hellos and goodbyes. 6 months of unsaid feelings. 6 months of somber nights. 6 months of waking up to an empty house with used dishes still in the sink indicating some sort of life. 6 months of casual avoidance.

6 months. 

6 months is a long time to feel alone, to feel stuck, to feel _trapped._

It wasn't always this way. There was once a point when they were each other's everything, each other’s one and only. Tied and twisted together in a fateful timeless love.

They always knew with unprecedented faith that this was it. That _they_ were it. There was no doubt when they met. There was no doubt when the first said “I love you”. When they first kissed. When he said “yes” or when he sealed it with “I do”.

When did they stop? When did they stop being _“Louis &Harry”, _the golden unstoppable couple? They were fearless. They were passionate. They had their bad days like any other couple but _they were in love._

Louis remembers exactly when they stopped, he remembers it with such vibrancy and ferocity. He would give anything to wipe the pain and anguish from his vivid memory but every time he closes his eyes he can still see flashes of tiny toes, rosy cheeks, and grabby hands.

It was basically common knowledge that they would have children. Anyone who knew Harry and Louis knew that they absolutely adored kids. They were on the top of all of their friends’ and families’ babysitting lists. As the “cool uncles”, they were always eager to host a playdate, or take their nieces and nephews out for adventures in the park or ice cream before dinner.

Although they loved being met with tiny voices screaming “Uncle Louis” and “Uncle Harry”, they were ready to graduate from being just uncles to being fathers.

For them, it never mattered how they became parents, all that mattered was the love and pride they would feel towards their children and starting a family of their own.

They had done everything right. Filling out endless adoption paperwork, completing background checks, scheduling at home visits with the agency, going to tons of interviews. Together, they worked tirelessly for their dream, willingly to sacrifice anything that stood in the way.

Harry had essentially lost his damn mind. Running wildly through their flat “baby proofing” every available surface, edge and corner, convinced that they had to be absolutely ready at any time.

_“Uhh babe? You do know that we are not getting an actual child today, right? This is simply an at home visit.” Louis asks while casually sipping his tea at the breakfast bar._

_“Louis please, we have to adequately demonstrate that we will be responsible and caring parents! Our flat is essentially a deathtrap and I don’t want the social worker to think that we would allow harm to come to an innocent child!” Harry fumes while plugging in yet another safety plug into the wall outlet. “If I can injure myself on it, then what to do you think will happen with a child?”_

_“To be fair, you injure yourself just trying to get your ridiculous hats down from the top shelf of our closet.”_

_“Oh my God! I didn’t even think of our closet! What if our baby crawls inside out of curiosity and everything falls on top of them and… Oh my GOD!” Harry screeches as he runs frantically towards their master bedroom, dropping a trail of safety wall plugs behind him._

_“Why would a baby be even mildly interested in a closet? Let alone our closet.” Louis mumbles under his breath. “Especially since our closet is filled with outrageous headscarves and glittery boots. I would hope that my child would have some fashion sense and ch-“_

_A loud crash stirs Louis from his ramblings._

_“Shit Harold, it’s too early for this.” Louis sighs as he begins to make his way over to the master bedroom. He could already picture the scene that awaited him._

_“Louehhhh!” Harry howls, sounding like a petulant child. “Erm...I think I’m stuck…and I can definitely feel the tip of my gold boot stuck in my ass.”_

They had come close to becoming parents several times. Many of the expecting moms they met with were instantly in love with Harry’s effortless charm and caring touch. He was overly attentive to their needs and supportive of their concerns, always going above and beyond the duties of a potential adoption candidate.

Louis was also adored for his constant reassurance and headstrong personality. All the mother’s could sense he would make a compassionate father who would fight to the ends of the earth to protect his child. He was determined and he was selfless when it came to the people he loved. 

Together, Harry and Louis made the perfect parental duo. They had all their bases covered and it really should’ve been only a matter of time before they finally became parents.

But in the end, it always came back to the same basic issue: Harry and Louis were both men. Although many advances had been made in the adoption process for a gay couple, unfortunate prejudices still managed to rear its ugly head in the process.

The cycle went on for months. An adoption agency would call, they would excitedly go in for an interview, the mother would claim to love them, then several weeks later the mother would have doubts, ultimately deciding to choose another “more suitable” couple.

They had started to become numb to it all, progressively getting less and less enthused by the adoption agency calls. It was starting to feel like a hopeless hoop dream. A never-ending wheel of disappointment and frustration.

Harry and Louis had come so close to giving up or at least just taking a break for a while. The constant up and down, like an emotional roller coaster, took a new toll on them with each twist and turn.

Until one night they got the call. The call they had been waiting for. The call that would change their lives forever.

Tanya was a young feisty girl only about 16 years old. Bright spirited and free willed. Her child was conceived with her 18-year-old American boyfriend of 3 months. They had met while he was backpacking through Europe. He was set to start university in the fall, but had decided to travel and broaden his horizons before bunkering down and facing pending adulthood.

Their love was a summer love that may have gone too far. Blindly infatuated, Tanya had dropped everything to follow him throughout his travels, essentially glued to his side. He claimed he loved her and she believed him.

She gave him everything. All that she held dear, all she had inside.

All in the name of love. Or what she thought was love.

The pregnancy had come as a shock, not only to her but also to her boyfriend. He wasn’t ready to be a father, claiming he had his whole life ahead of him, and he was just now getting it together. He said they hardly knew each other and everything was moving way too fast. He needed space, he needed time.

The day after Tanya told him she was expecting, he vanished, leaving her alone in their motel room on the coast of the Italian peninsula.

Heartbroken, Tanya had returned home to her family in London, expecting them to coddle her and tell her everything would be ok. Remind her that she would make it through this and they would always be with her.

Sadly, her family did not see through her eyes. Coming from a religious background, her parents could not support an unexpected teenage pregnancy. They shunned her, shunned their own daughter because breaking the law of abstinence was against all moral ground. They would have nothing to do with her, forcibly spitting her back into the world that had already chewed her up.

Louis heart had instantly gone out to her. She was ostracized and abandoned by everyone who had declared to love her. It was truly heartbreaking to see a girl at such a young age with virtually no support and a baby on the way.  All she wanted was someone to want her, someone to love her.

Louis and Harry were the first couple she met with. Tanya was already 7 months along by the time she met them. She had battled with her options for as long as possible, contemplating keeping the baby and raising it on her own. But in the end she knew she didn’t have the support or stability to care for a new life. She wanted her baby to thrive in a world she couldn’t survive in herself. She wanted her baby to feel the love and support that she wished she had.

Who knows why Tanya chose them. Maybe because she felt an odd kinship to them. Maybe because she pitied them. Maybe she didn’t even have a reason and it was all by random chance. Regardless of why, on that late spring evening, Louis and Harry became the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl. 

A beautiful rosy-cheeked baby girl with hazel eyes etched in ember. Oddly enough, even though she bore no genetic relation to her father, her hair was a twisted mess of tumbling tendrils that curled around her tiny ears. Without question, she was the most beautiful thing Louis had ever seen. She was perfect. She was theirs.

They had named her Izabelle with a “z” because Harry had insisted that it was the most natural way to pronounce the name.

_"No one even says ISS-abelle, if you think about it Lou. If that were the case it would sound like a snake charmer. You just naturally say IZZ-abelle without even realizing it. I will not have our baby girl’s name be mispronounced and butchered when I can help it.” He had claimed._

And Louis didn’t even care to argue with him. Even slightly agreed with him, if he was being honest. But he would never let Harry know that, of course. It didn’t matter to Louis anyways. Izabelle or Isabelle or even Isobel, she was still their little miracle.

Izabelle was such a good baby, not too fussy and only crying when she needed to be changed or fed. She was an absolute joy to have.

The jovial bubbly little girl seemed to be always giggling to herself, her eyes crinkling and her mouth twisted into a gummy smile. She was so filled with life and wonder.

Louis loved to come home from work, scoop her up in his arms and watch her. He would hold her for hours just staring at the micro expressions portrayed on her small face as she peacefully slept. She would curl her tiny fists into the fabric of his shirt and nuzzle her head into to crook of Louis' arm.

She was unreal, like a dream that he is too afraid to wake up from. So pure and innocent, naïve to the downfalls of the world. Louis wanted to keep her pure, keep her untainted by the ugly world around her. The amount of love he felt for this small fragile life could easily cause his heart to burst at any moment.

And Harry. God, Harry simply adored her. Cherished every waking moment spent with her. If Louis thought he couldn’t possibly love this man any more, he was completely and utterly mistaken. Watching the love of his life beam like the actual sun while interacting with their child brought Louis to whole new levels of affection.

In the nursery, which had been converted from their office study, sat a beautiful hand crafted rocking chair made of strong maple oak. It had been given to them as a gift from Louis’ mum when they had first set out to have kids and it stood as a constant reminder of that dream they had fought so long and hard for.

Every night Harry would wrap Izabelle in a soft lilac blanket and rock her gently to sleep in that chair. Soothing her though soft croons and mollifying sways.

_“Why little miss Izzy, I do believe it is past your bed time young lady.” Harry sing-songs while scooping her into his arms. “Oh don’t give me that face, you know good and well how cranky you are in the morning when you don’t get your beauty rest.”_

_Izabelle gurgles in response, reaching out her little fingers to yank at her father’s long locks._

_“Hey!” Harry yelps a bit overdramatically. “Don’t let your daddy see that or he may get jealous. He is under the faulty impression that only he possesses the ability to touch my hair. If I’m certain of anything_ , _it’s that your daddy is a jealous one. But we love him anyway, don’t we, Iz?”  Harry rambles as he picks up a soft cotton lilac blanket._

_A joyful squeal escapes Izabelle’s toothless grin, a slight dribble of drool sliding down her chin._

_“Yes, yes we do.” He agrees with a fond smile._

_With all the care in the world, Harry masterfully wraps the blanket around his daughter’s small frame; vigilantly tucking in the all edges and smoothing out the wrinkles. After successfully turning Izabelle into a baby burrito, he settles into the solid oak of the rocking chair and cradles his baby to his chest._

_“Ok love, you are all ready to set sail into sweet, sweet slumber! All you need now is a lullaby. Mmmm, what shall we sing tonight little miss?” ponders Harry as he begins to melodiously rock them too and fro.  “Oh, I know the perfect song!”_

_Nestled in Harry’s chest, Izabelle stares up at him, eyes bright and perfectly content as if there was no place she would rather be but safe in her father’s loving arms._

_“If every word I said could make you laugh, I’d talk forever. I ask the sky what we had, mmm, it shown forever,” Harry serenades softly, rocking her back and forth, “If the song I sing to you could fill your heart with joy, I’d sing forever.”_

_“Forever. Forever,” He sings in hushed soothing tones as Izabelle slowly closes her drooping eyes to sleep._

_“I’ve been so happy loving you.”_

They were a family.  A _real_ family. One that Louis had dreamed of starting with Harry for so many years. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

94 days.

94 days they had been a family, a picture-perfect family. For an unreal 94 days, life had new meaning. But on that 94th day that had started out like any other day, the picture was shattered.

Louis remembers it all like a series of steps on a list.

First, the doorbell rang which Louis recalls was extremely odd for the time of day, being that it was early Sunday morning and most people who did not have small infants to care to, would be sound asleep. If it were one of their families stopping by, they would have surely rung before showing up unannounced at such an early hour.

Second, upon opening the door, Louis remembers being greeted with a host of somber faces.  A few faces he recognized immediately, while others he hadn’t.

The subdued faces began to talk saying things like “We are so sorry” and “Since the paperwork hasn’t been finalized” and other small bits that seemed to fly over Louis' head.

He stood immobile, with the sinking feeling of dread washing over him, trying to understand what these people where doing in his living room at 6 AM on a Sunday morning.

One of the faces began to speak again, this time with more urgency and less gentle curiosity. “Where is she? Can we just get this over with as swiftly as possible? I hate to be rude, but my client has a plane to catch and-”

That’s when Louis remembers snapping first.

“Well, it's too late for that, you are far past fucking rude.” Louis interrupted, irritation and annoyance dripping in his tone. “How fucking dare you come into our home, with hardly so much as a hello, and start making bloody demands! I don’t even know what the fuck you are rambling on about!" 

“My apologies Mr. Tomlinson, I know it is quite early. We are here to take Ms. Izabelle Styles-Tomlinson.”

Louis remembers feeling the blood drain from his face, his body frozen in shock as the man’s words swirled around his head. When he finally regained control of his motor functions, his first response was blind uncontrollable anger.

“The fuck you are! Over my dead bloody body! This must be a fucking joke, and a downright shitty one at that! What right do you even have to her?” Louis seethed, the temperature of his face escalading rapidly.

“As representatives of the Greyson Family, I regret to inform you that the birth mother of Izabelle Styles-Tomlinson, also known as Tanya Greyson, is requesting full custody be granted over her child, effective immediately. I am not permitted to release to you the details of this decision at this time. But I assure you the Greyson family will make those details available to you at a later date.”

Third, he remembers Harry walk into the living room, alarmed by all the noise, cradling Izabelle in one arm while feeding her a warm bottle with the other. He remembers watching every ounce of color leave his face as he began to process what was happening.

“No.” Harry said darkly with territorial presence only a father can possess. His head began to shake as a seemly unintentional reflex. “No. You can’t have her. She is _our_ daughter and always will be. No, no, no...” he continued to repeat, over and over as if it was the only word he knew.

The man who Louis now identifies to be some sort of custody lawyer speaks up, “I understand that this must be hard for you both to accept, but-”

“Hard for us to accept!” Harry interrupts, his tone shifting from shock to frenzy. He began violently shaking his head back and forth while pacing wildly. “We are her parents! We have been here for her since day one, when none of you were! When none of you wanted a damn thing to do with her!

“You can’t just show up on our fucking doorstep at the crack of fucking dawn after 3 fucking months and expect us to gingerly fucking hand over our child!”

“I understand your concern.” The uppity lawyer offers.

“I don’t think you understand shit.” Louis spits, his vision becoming increasingly compromised. “There was no fucking warning, no way for us to adequately prepare to have our daughter ripped from our fucking lives. Shit, no!”

“You are justified in your response. However I do possess the legal right to have you detained if you persist. Your permanent custody of Ms. Izabelle Styles-Tomlinson has not yet been approved and as of 7:49 PM last night your temporary custody has been revoked in favor of the birthmother’s biological custody claim.”  The lawyer recites calmly, as if it is just another day on the job.

Louis remembers watching through the tears of his own eyes as Harry began to openly break.  His face contorting into pure anguish, the veins in his neck pulsating with every passing moment.  His jaw clenching and unclenching as the tears that had been brimming at his eyes began to spill down his pale cheeks.

Fourth, Louis remembers saying goodbye.

“Can we at least have a moment alone with her,” Harry whimpered out in between sniffles, “to...to...s-say goodbye?”

“Yes. Of course, yes. Please, take your time.” Tanya quickly offers. The young mother had been silent the entire time, looking uncomfortable and pallid hiding beyond her lawyer. Louis remembers her being the only person to show the slightest bit of compassion towards the hell they were facing.

Louis recalls following Harry, who was still carrying baby Izzy, into the nursery.

They stood in the middle of the nursery, swaying softly. Harry clutching their baby to his chest and Louis with his arms wrapped around them both, creating a small sanctum. A small little safe place where the only thing that mattered was the three of them.

Even after only 3 months, this room was filled with so many fond and warm memories of laughter, of joy, of _firsts_. It was adorned by pictures, keepsakes, and memoirs that physically captured many of the moments shared within this room.

But now this room would forever be remembered as the place where they said their last words to their daughter. The place were they said _goodbye_.

As if sensing something was terribly wrong, Izabelle began to cry, her face heating to a bright scarlet.

“Harry…w-why…don’t you...s-sing to her,” Louis hiccupped out, “one...one last time.”

And for the last time Harry sat in that solid maple oak rocking chair cradling his daughter in his arms. Louis settled on the floor between Harry’s legs, his gaze fixed upon the small baby wrapped in his husband’s arms.

“Shhh little miss, you’ll be alright.” Harry cooed softly, tears trickling down his cheeks, “You’re a fighter, and you always have been. Now where is my happy baby? Where is my giggling Izzy?"

Izabelle gradually ceased her crying at her father's prompt. Her bright flushed face, stained with tears, returning to its usual pigment. Slowly but surely her eyes began to crinkle and she began to display her giggling gummy grin.

“There she is, there’s our sweet girl." 

Slowly rocking, Harry began to sing as he always did, but this time his heart weighed heavy and the words cut deep into his soul.

 _“Let the love I have for you live in your heart and beat forever.”_ Harry’s voice breaks as he continues to sing, _“So I’m goin’ away, mmm, but not forever. I gotta love you anyway.”_

 _“Forever, Forever.”_ Harry’s voice was just above a pained whisper.

_“I’ve been so happy loving you.”_

“Promise to be good now little miss, promise us that you will always be our giggling girl.”  

Louis reaches up to stroke Izabelle’s soft curls. “Always remember that your daddies love you so very much and we will never forget how much you meant to us.” A choked sob escapes Louis' throat. “You will always be our Izabelle.”

_“Forever.”_

Fifth, Louis remembers watching Tanya pry Izabelle from Harry’s arms, after what seemed like only short moments. Mere seconds, compared to the lifetime they were supposed to have with their child.

At the sight of the three of them curled together around the rocking chair, Tanya had started to cry as well, the emotion that filled the room taking a toll on her already somber state. “I’m so...I’m so sorry, I never…I never meant for it work out this way. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I know you love her. Please…don’t hate me.”

“We don’t...” Louis pauses, summoning all the powers that be to give him some semblance of strength, “we don’t hate you. Just…please take care of our girl.”

Louis remembers grasping Harry’s hand with everything he had in him, just needing something to ground him. Something to remind him that he is still breathing. Harry seemed to need the assurance just as much, squeezing his partner’s hand almost to the point of pain.

Sixth, Louis remembers watching the door to their flat close and facing the haunting realization that this was real life. This wasn’t a nightmare he would suddenly wake up from, this was reality.

Louis remembers watching as his husband physically deflated before his eyes. As if he no longer possessed the strength or the will to hold on any longer. Harry sunk to his knees, shoulders shaking wildly as massive sobs wracked his body.

Louis remembers immediately running to him, sinking down to his level, pulling him into his arms and just holding him there on the living room floor.

“No, no, Lou…she’s…she’s our b-baby…our little...g-girl.” Harry choked out. His eyes violently inflamed, his hair, which was once tied into a neat bun, now frayed and disheveled, sticking out in various directions from his scalp. “They c-cant…t-take her a-away, we can fight it! Right…Louis? We could…we…we c-could sue…we we could…”

Knowing that their daughter was ripped from their lives was far more than enough to push Louis over the edge, but watching Harry break, hurt him in more ways than he could possibly comprehend. “Shh love, we… w-will be ok.” Louis said while tears continued to mercilessly flow from his eyes. Louis didn’t know what else to say. He had the urge to fight too. To run, guns blazing out the door and demand his child back.

“I n-need her...I need h-her, Lou.” Harry bawls. He tries to get back up but Louis holds him in place by his waist, urging him to calm down.

“Izzy!” Harry screams, reaching out in torment and agony. He fights Louis strong hold around him, twisting and turning in a valiant attempt to be free.  “NO! Louis stop! Let me go! I can get her back! I NEED her, she’s my baby! Louis no! I need her!”

Harry, having a larger frame than Louis manages to free himself from his grasp, suddenly filled with a new wave of determination. He leaps from his spot on the floor and charges for the door arms flailing, legs wobbling.

Louis lunges after him, grabbing both of his wrists and affectively pinning him against the living room wall. Louis holds his wrists firmly against the wall and just stares at Harry’s glistening face. He was losing it, panic sweeping over his body in ferocious waves.

“Harry, babe, please breathe. Just breathe with me love, breathe.” Louis encourages, his heart crumpling with every passing moment. “Just in…and out…in...and out…”

“I…I can’t…Louis…I…I c-can’t…” Harry shakes violently, obviously struggling to catch his breath, losing his grasp on the world. His whole face is ruddy and there are body fluids spouting from every orifice of his face.

“You can baby, you can. Just look at me. I’m right here with you. P-please,” Louis begs, lips quivering, eyes still spewing salty tears, “p-please l-look at me, I love you, _please_?”

Harry’s wild eyes finally find their focus on Louis face. They stare into each other’s eyes just searching. Searching for answers, searching for comfort, searching for _relief_.

“I need her,” he whispers, defeated. “I need her,” he repeats like a mantra, whispered over and over again in desperation.

“I know love, I know, I need her, too.”

Eventually Harry stops resisting, stops fighting and gives in, collapsing into Louis’ embrace. They slide down the wall, wrapped around each other.

Harry curls himself as small as humanly possible against Louis' chest. Louis unties what is left of Harry’s bun and begins to stroke his hair. Massaging his scalp and kissing his head lovingly in a desperate effort to calm him down.

They sat there together curled into each other for hours, crying softly and holding on for dear life.

Six steps.

Six steps that caused his life to shift in a direction her never dreamed imaginable. Nothing was the same after those six steps.

They had longed and hoped and wished and prayed for a child and when she was snatched out of their life, it broke them in every sense of the word.

Apparently Tanya’s boyfriend had seen the error of his selfish ways and contacted her, offering to start over, to start fresh. Their parents had decided it would be best if they got married and raised the baby together. Tanya, eager to regain her parent’s approval, had made arrangements to move to America to raise Izabelle with her soon to be husband, who was currently studying political science at university.

Since the paperwork had yet to be officially finalized, it was within their legal right to request custody over the baby. The finalization period of adoption is 6 months.

Louis and Harry did have the option of raising a custody suit in attempts to reclaim their daughter. However most cases ended messily and caused both families further pain, not to mention the added strain placed on the child.

They didn’t want to put Izabelle through any more unnecessary processes; she had already been through enough at such a young age. The thought of her resenting them as parents in the future because they selfishly kept her away from her biological family is too much to imagine.

They would gladly shoulder all the pain in order to spare Izabelle any discomfort. Because that is what loving parents do. They sacrifice to protect their children, despite the anguish, despite the all-consuming pain it would bring. 

Tanya claimed they were always welcome to visit and be a part of Izabelle’s life in the future, even though she was moving so far away. But it was just too painful. She was no longer their little Izzy and the reality of that was more than either Harry or Louis could stomach.

After that day, Harry had tried to put on a bold face and be strong for the both of them, immediately picking up on their old routine without question. He wordlessly continued to go about his usual day as if nothing had happened, as if their lives hadn’t just been drastically altered.

But late in the dead of night, Louis could hear the soft sound of Harry's choked sobs muffled by his pillow. Louis knew he was broken, dying a little more inside with each passing day, but he didn’t know how to reach him. They haven’t really talked about it since that horrid day.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about it, or maybe it hurt too much to let it all out, but regardless Louis was at a loss.

They didn’t know how to respond. How to comfort each other. What comfort could they really offer each other at this point? Their child was gone and there was no changing that. But how do you move forward? How do you keep on living life with a piece of you missing?

And that's how Louis ended up here. Sitting at his office desk staring blankly at a blinking cursor open to an empty submission box. 

“God, what am I doing?” Louis rants under his breath. “What is taking out a personal column even going to solve? I’ve fallen so low that I’ve resorted to taking out a fucking ad in a fucking newspaper! I mean, what kind of bloody idiot even reads the newspaper any more? All the news you will ever need is laid out on the web or broadcasted on telly! I’m basically writing to my own bloody self.”

Louis loves Harry, honestly he does. How can he not after everything they have gone through, everything they experienced together? He just needs...something. Someone. Someone to talk to, someone new and removed and unknowing. Someone to take his mind off things for awhile who doesn't know the current shambles of his life.  Someone to help him escape.

“Ugh God, ok. Fuck it. I’ll just type up a few random things and see where it goes. If someone responds, ok. If no one responds, ok.” Louis decides after internally battling with himself. “Short and sweet.”

 

_If you know the value of good English tea._

_If you can enjoy a beautiful view no matter where you stand._

_If you like Sex on the Beach (not like the act, but the drink, I mean the act is a great time too, but yeah…the drink. Cheers)._

_If you like staying up until the stars shine and the air is still and the world is yours for the night._

_If you like the smell of autumn, while the leaves are dancing around you in a flurry of bright orange hues._

_If you can form coherent sentences most days. (I’ll give you a pass if you’re drunk. Cheers again)._

_Write to me and escape._

 

Louis hits the submission button before he has time to dwell on what he wrote and what it means and what has actually become of his life.

 

||||||

Harry always believed that news should be read on printed-paper because that way you could really feel the story on a tactile level. It’s an experience. With the ink staining your hands black as ash and the overwhelming unique smell of musty paper wafting through the pages. A fresh cup of tea paired with a newly printed newspaper always had a familiar calming effect on Harry.

Harry’s morning routine consisted of waking up bright and early at 5 AM, followed by SoulCycle at 6 AM. After returning home and showering at 7 AM, he would set out to concoct a perfectly balanced breakfast of fresh berries sprinkled on organic Greek yogurt topped with chia seeds paired with a crisp freshly pressed juice blend. Louis positively detested Harry’s new health kick, claiming that seeds and berries and leaves were for the birds and only the birds.

After his main breakfast, Harry would settle down in his favorite spot at their breakfast bar, cozied up with a warm mug, to read the paper. He never skipped a section from local news to global news to the cooking section to the personal ads. How could he, when there are so many hidden gems confined within the pages?

Once, last May, he discovered an elderly woman who was giving away all her late husband’s old vintage fedora hats. Of course, Harry had immediately jumped on the offer, calling up the woman almost simultaneously as reading the ad. Upon meeting her he discovered that she was a sweet lady named Mary who was struggling with being newly widowed.  He had insisted on paying her for the lovely hats and in return she invited him in for tea.

Harry bonded with her instantly over the shared feeling of loss and emptiness. She was such a generous woman, with so much wisdom and life experience to offer.

None of her children lived in England anymore, each branching off to find their true place in the world. After her husband passed, she had no one around to keep her company and spent many of her days in solitude.

Harry absolutely hated the idea of such a dear sweet woman spending her days alone. He always made an effort to stop by and visit with her, even if only a brief ten minutes, just to make sure she was all right. Come to think of it, He needs to remember to give Mary a call; her birthday is in a few weeks.

It was nice having someone to talk to who could empathize with the feeling of loss, the feeling of change. The feeling of having to move on and readjust when already so accustomed to the same old routine. It’s hard to break habit, to go back on what feels so natural.

When they had Izabelle, Harry had adjusted his schedule to only go to SoulCycle every other day in order to spread the parental responsibility. Louis and Harry would alternate getting up early and tending to their baby.

Of course he had been nothing but happy to do it, waking up to his daughter’s giggling face was the best way to start his day. Harry would always warm her bottle to exactly 37° C because he worried she could burn herself if it was too hot. But if it wasn’t warm enough, he refused to give it to her. Luke warm milk is an absolute travesty against all life and he would stand for nothing but the best for his little miss.

Next he would pull out a fresh sleeper and matching baby beanie to change Izzy into. After she was changed and fed, he would wrap her in her lilac blanket and just hold her. Just feel the warmth of her tiny body radiating against his chest.

Harry misses those early mornings, misses those tiny helpless cries, misses that simple routine.

Some days he forgets. He forgets and he finds himself preparing a bottle of warm milk set to exactly 37° C and picking out a fresh sleeper and matching beanie and everything feels right again. Feels familiar. Feels _right._

Until the bubble bursts and it all crashes down on him like a tidal wave to the reef. He remembers she's gone. He remembers that when he turns the corner into the nursery he won't be greeted with soft giggles and grabby hands reaching to pull on his hair. 

And _that_ feeling. That deep hollowing feeling of emptiness leaves him immobile.

There have been days when the pain is too overwhelming to bear. There have been days when just he can't deal with it and he cracks.

He picks up Izzy’s soft lilac blanket and cuddles it to his chest as he once did with her tucked inside and just cries quietly, trying to muffle his sobs as not to awake or alarm Louis. 

Harry knows Louis is hurting just as much as he is but he doesn't ever show it. He is always so strong for Harry and Harry just wants to be equally strong for him.  Louis just seems better equipped to move forward with their life…but it’s _so_ hard. It's hard to let go, it's hard to forget, to move on.

For months now, Harry has felt empty. Nothing seems as bright or as real as it used too. Nothing feels right or gives him the same joy. 

His life has become an endless game of pretend. A useless charade of fake smiles and constantly assuring everyone that he is “ok”. That he is “fine” and there is no need to worry about him.

It’s all lies, if he’s honest with himself. He hasn’t felt “ok” in months. He walks around as a sad shadow of who he once was. He hardly eats, he can’t sleep, afraid to close his eyes for fear of what he might see. Haunted by the traces of what once was.

This morning, having been awake for longer than he cares to admit, Harry sits at the breakfast bar, reading through his usual morning paper, _The Guardian._

He doesn’t have as much time as he once did to leisurely read it. To distract his mind, Harry started working again, at a quaint little photography studio downtown. He enjoys what he does, capturing small mementos of cherished life, immortalizing them forever.

However he finds himself often getting numbly jealous of his clients. Their lives appear so happy and warm, bursting with joyful moments surrounded by the people they love. Their wide smiles and dopey-eyed faces filled with sincere bliss in the photos he captures.

Every picture taken of Harry recently displays a plastered on tight-lipped smile and pained dead eyes. No real emotion carried through the snapshot besides emptiness.

But he enjoys his job nonetheless because it reminds him of what was, what could have been. If life hadn’t taken such a sudden twist, it would be him beaming brightly at his daughter. It would be him and Louis making ridiculous faces at Izzy to get her to laugh for the camera. It would be them, the picture perfect family.

But it isn’t. It won't ever be and life apparently goes on whether Harry wants it to or not.

Harry is just about to read the personal ad section, when Louis walks into the kitchen, freshly shaved, dressed in a clean suit, hair slicked back and ready for work.

“Good morning, love.” Louis says while walking over to sweetly kiss Harry’s cheek, “How are you? You’ve been up for a while, yeah?”

Harry scratches the back of his neck, “Erm…yeah. I guess I have been up for a bit, I was just…uhh…restless. But I’m ok…I’m ok…I’m fine…yeah.” He stammers out.

“Harry, I...,” Louis pauses, as if he is at a loss for words, “Maybe we should...”

“No, Louis. You don’t have to do this.” Harry says as he abruptly gets up from the breakfast bar. “We don’t have to do this. I just…” Harry stops and stares at Louis dead in the eye.

Louis’ eyes are filled with so much raw emotion and unsaid words. There is grief, there is longing and there is also a glimmer of hope.

Louis is reaching out to him, trying to close the gap that has grown far too wide and far too fast. But Harry can’t. He can’t feel all those emotions. Not now. Not without causing a dam to break inside him. He won’t.

“I’m going to be late for work.” Harry exhales, finally breaking the silence. He grabs his keys, phone, and the newspaper he has yet to read, and heads for the door.

Just as he is reaching to turn the doorknob, he pauses and looks back at his husband who is still in the same spot, unmoving. His beautiful husband, partner and best friend who loves him with everything he has.

The distance between them although only physically is steps, feels like miles. If only he had the strength to close the gap. If only he knew how.

“Bye Lou.” Harry breathes, voice barely above a whisper.

As he closes the door, Harry hears Louis’ shrill voice quietly sigh, “Bye Haz.”

 

||||||

Walking into his office, Harry looks down at the newspaper still clutched in his hand. Since he had already finished the news and politics section early this morning, all that was left was his favorite, the personal advertisements. There was still time to kill before his first client, so he sits down at his desk to peruse the rest of the paper.

Harry casual sifts through the ads, some promoting new real estate available, others depicting several puppies in need of a home, while still others endorsing upcoming garage sales and clearance events.  His eyes gloss over the same old series of columns, the familiar postings of daily life in the city, until one simple unassuming ad catches his attention.

This advertisement appears ordinary at first glance, but immediately fills Harry’s heart with a warm subtle burn, with its rhythmic witty tone and reminiscent patterns. It resonates within him, every single word down to the very last one striking a chord. _Escape._

He would give anything to escape his wandering mind and tormented thoughts. Knowing that there was someone else, who shared the same need to just be free was oddly assuring to Harry. There was someone else out there who was just as desperate and broken. Only difference is that this person had the courage to do something about it 

He wasn’t completely alone or completely crazy for just needing to get away from it all. To just escape. What harm is there in answering a simple innocent ad?

He pulls out his iPhone, clicks Safari and navigates to _The Guardian’s_ personal ad submission box.

“Whoever this person is, probably won’t even show up. It was probably a sick joke,” Harry mumbles to himself, “or maybe a social experiment to see what kind of sad sap would respond to a personal ad about damn leaves and the bloody night sky.”

“Well, apparently I am that sad sap.” Harry sighs as he begins to type out a response. “It can’t hurt I suppose.”

 

_Yes, I believe that the start of a good day begins with a good cup of tea._

_The view where you stand can never be anything but beautiful._

_I’m a firm believer in both types of Sex on a Beach (Cheers to you too)_

_I love staying up all night and dancing in the moonlight knowing that the night is all mine for the taking._

_I am in love with the vast colors fall brings and the sweet aroma of maple leaves flowing in the wind._

_I think I’ve successfully depicted that I can at least write coherent sentences. You’ll have to meet me to see how well sentences form in a drunken state. (Cheers)_

_Let's meet tomorrow 6 pm sharp at a bar called Ape & Bird and we will plan our escape. x_

|||||||

 

“Tomorrow at six? You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Louis blurts out from his office desk, the morning _Guardian_ strewn across his workspace. A few staff passing by his open office door cast him curious glances, obviously disturbed by his sudden outburst.

But Louis honestly couldn’t care less. He actually received a response, a tangible written response from another living person.

Louis didn’t know what he was expecting when he took out that personal column. Maybe he didn’t think it would ever amount to anything. Just buried under the hundreds of ads the paper puts out daily. Never to be read or acknowledged.

To think that someone not only noticed his ad, but read it and liked it enough to respond and then on top of that request a meeting? What are the odds? His ad wasn’t even that inspiring, just a few vague jumbled thoughts and random feelings.

You could say Louis was beyond intrigued, his body humming with excitement he hasn’t felt in quite some time. It’s not everyday someone tells a virtual stranger ‘let's escape’ without any back-story or strings attached. This was massive!

But should he actually meet this mystery writer who answered his ad with such eloquence and grace? That filled his mind with wonder and put him in a state of pure awe.

He has too, right? It would be rude not to at least meet this individual, who took the time out of their most likely busy day to respond to his desperate column. And who knows? He may get a great friendship out of it or a funny story to tell Harry.

Harry.

What about Harry? The love of his life, his partner, his _equal_. Would keeping this from him be a form of cheating? Was him meeting a completely random person on a whim wrong?

They are basically just covert pen pals. Louis’ ad in the paper was extremely innocent (expect maybe the whole sex on the beach thing but hey, he had meant the drink. It isn’t _his_ fault that the ghostwriter who answered has a thing for both).

And escape doesn’t have to be a physical thing. It’s not like he is leaving Harry. He would never even dream of leaving his husband. He just needs to escape his thoughts, escape the torment of his day to day life.

Who even knows why this person responded to him. There is obviously a good reason that they did. Maybe, just maybe they are crying out for help too. Throwing out smoke signals and waving white flags, just waiting for someone to notice them. Waiting for someone to care. What if they really are screaming out? What if?

If this person is drowning just as much as Louis is, he is now morally obligated to reach out. Maybe they can save each other. Maybe they can make a difference in each other’s lives.

Louis resolves that regardless of whether they need help or not it is at least common courtesy to meet them and find out for himself.

 

||||||

 

Harry arrives at Ape & Bird at 5:45 pm. Punctuality is key, and it gives him time to collect his thoughts and grab a drink, or two. He honestly doesn’t know what in the actual hell he is doing here. Sneaking away on a weeknight to meet with an absolute stranger. Honestly, who even does that?

But even that doesn’t detour him from strolling into the bar and selecting a booth near the back with a prime view of the entrance.  The bar is artfully decorated and filled with warm lighting that make the whole space feel homey.  It has an enticingly fresh mix of vintage old school infused with new age flair, making him feel instantly at home.

Harry goes straight to the bar to order two drinks, contemplating if it is too much to order ‘Sex on the Beach’ at this time of day. He decides that might be pushing it a bit too far and resolves to just order the house special for tonight.

As he begins making his way to the back table, drinks in tow, his boot catches on the leg of a barstool. Immediately he loses his footing, tumbling forward into the unsuspecting individual in front of him. The drinks he had just purchased mere minutes ago now completely emptied onto the back of this unlucky guest’s shirt.

“Shit, oops. I’m so sorry, mate! I’d like to say it won't happen again, but the night is young and I can’t honestly guarantee that.” Harry says with a sheepish smile, looking down at his booted feet now covered in alcohol, “and now I can't stop talking, sorry. I’m just slightly nervous, I was getting a drink for someone I’m meeting tonight and I wasn’t paying attention and I tend to be a bit loose limbed sometimes and yeah, ok let me stop rambling, sorry again.” he says while rocking on the balls of his feet, a habit he has been known to display when feeling anxious. “Enjoy your night. Cheers.”

“It’s you.” 

“Louis?” Harry questions in absolute disbelief at the familiar voice ringing in his ears. He lifts his head from his previous gaze at his boots. “What are you…Why are you?”

“Hi.” Louis says breathless, his face an interesting twist of sweet relief and pure shock.

“Are you here for…wait, you can’t be? I mean….are you…did you-”

“Take out an ad in the paper?" Louis finishes for him, as Harry was getting nowhere in his incessant stammering.

“No fucking way.” Harry blanches, his jaw going slack. “But you…I didn’t know that-“

“Ok, ok Curly. You caught me, I like sex on the beach.” Louis says raising his arms in defeat. “The feel of it just washes over you and takes over your senses. God, it’s absolutely mind-blowing. You have to try to it.” His face contorts into a smug grin.

Harry stares dumbly at Louis before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god! It’s actually you! He cackles out almost at a loss of breath. “Of all the people in this city who read _The Guardian_! Of all the personal ads! It’s you!”

“I really can’t believe this!” Louis snickers, resting a hand on his stomach. “You’re telling me that, you can write in coherent sentences?” Louis schools his tittering face into mock shock. “Harold, come on. Let’s be honest. Who did you pay to write that response for you?" Louis teases. “How is that even possible?”

“Hey!” Harry draws out. “I’m not illiterate! I’ll have you know that I can not only write coherently but I can also speak. And read, might I add! So, ha!” he indignantly flips his long locks behind his shoulder and places a hand on his hip. 

“But not walk in a straight line while perfectly sober without starting a shitstorm. Look at me! I’m drenched in…what is that?" Louis questions while sniffing his shirt. “Vodka? Oi Harold! What were you trying to do? Get me blind drunk before I even got the chance to get to know you? I am scandalized.” Louis dramatically clutches his chest in horror.

“No! I just ordered the house special because I didn’t know what else to get. I guess it might be a tad strong?” Harry reverts with a grin, his dimples on full display.

“Only a tad? I smell like a bloody distillery!” Louis admonishes, his face scrunching up in disgust. 

“Well, my sincerest apologies again, I hate to waste a good drink. I’ll go get us fresh ones, but I got a table in the back,” Harry says pointing to the empty booth in the corner, “you can go try to clean yourself off and meet me back there.”

“Ehh, fuck it. I’m becoming quite fond of my new aroma. It’s actually quite comforting now, don’t you think?” Louis questions, lifting his wet shirt once more to smell its scent.

“Umm, whatever you say, Lou.” Harry chuckles to himself as he turns and heads back to the bar. He orders two new drinks and is overly cautious as he makes his way over to their booth.

Louis is sitting in the booth, mindlessly stacking drink coasters. Upon noticing Harry’s arrival he begins to dramatically clap his hands in a slow rhythm “Look who made it back unscathed, with drinks I might add! Bravo, my good sir, bravo! I was starting to get worried.”

“Worried? About lil’ ole me? No need love, I couldn’t get lost when I have your scent to guide me home.” Harry smirks, placing the drinks down on the table and sliding into the booth across from Louis.

“Ahh, so that’s what this was about. You fumbled like a baby giraffe, spilling your drinks all over me just to mark your territory. Clever, clever lad.” Louis clucks, tone speculative. 

“I am not a baby giraffe!" Harry whines, an amused grin on his lips. “It was just my boots. They-”

“Oh my mistake, so it was your boot’s fault then?” Louis interrogates, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Well…no, but…I mean-”

“Ok, so it _was_ your fault? Honestly Harold, there is no need to blame an innocent inanimate object. I mean come on, the poor boots are just slaves to their owner, who also happens to be Bambi.” Louis comments, losing his schooled composure and full on laughing. He tries to hold in his giggles with a hand over his mouth, but it serves to be futile, only seeming to make him cackle harder.

“I honestly can never win with you.” Harry concludes, smile widening as he joins Louis in a fit of hysteria.

After a few moments, their incessant laughter casually dies down and a somber, almost suffocating air instantly surrounds them. The tension between them slowly building, charged with unsaid questions, fueled by emotional anxiety.

Louis looks down at his hands resting on the tabletop, absently twisting the platinum band adorning his finger. “Harry,” Louis silences, looking up from his hands, “Harry, how did we get here? What happened to us? We didn’t…We weren’t…I don’t think I remember the last time I’ve laughed this hard. We used to always be like this, Haz. We used to spend hours joking around; just laughing and teasing until our sides hurt and we couldn’t breathe.” A fond smile spreads over Louis face as he reminisces.

“Every waking moment I spent with you was the best moment of my life. You made me feel so alive and whole. Like anything and everything was possible, as long as you were right there with me. But…” Louis expression slowly dims, the exuberant affection now replaced with deep sadness. “But now, nothing feels possible and all I’m left with is the unsettling feeling of emptiness. I’m empty Harry, I’ve got nothing left.”

“Louis…I…” Harry drifts off, not knowing how to convey what he is feeling inside, so many unnamed emotions and wandering thoughts swimming through the recesses of his mind. “We…”

“Why didn't you just talk to me?" Louis interrupts. “I know, it's not fair of me to cast blame on you and I know it’s not your fault, I just,” he pauses trying to find the words, “Harry, you shut me out. You closed in on yourself and put up so many walls to keep me out. Never once, have you ever shut me out like that. I’ve always just known what you were thinking, what you were feeling. So in tune with you that I knew your reaction before my own. But after that day, after you picked yourself up off of the floor you wouldn’t let me in anymore. You became so self reliant and distant. When you no longer needed me…I…I’ve never felt so alone.”

Louis closes his eyes as if remembering the hurt, letting his emotions wash over him, releasing all the pent up feelings inside.

“No, Louis please, no.” Harry pleads earnestly, shaking his head. “I need you, I’ve never stopped needing you. I wanted to let you in more than anything. I wanted to talk to you and cry with you and just be with you. I wanted to Lou, please believe me, I did. But,” his voice cracks, drenched in raw emotion, “I wanted to be strong for you, be strong for us.”

Harry runs his hands over his face as if trying to clear his head. “You’re always so brave for me. So headstrong and fearless.” His voice drops down to a hushed tone almost as if he is afraid of his own words. “I didn't want to put all this extra weight on you. You would gladly carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders if you thought it would protect me, and I love you for it. But, for once I wanted you to feel like you could count on me, like I wasn’t this fragile little boy about to break at any moment. Like I was your partner, your _equal_. I tried to lock everything away from you but I felt lost inside myself, I didn’t want you to see how truly broken I was, how truly fragile I actually am.” 

“You are my equal Harry; you’re my whole heart. Babe, you are so incredibly strong, you've always made me so much stronger, I just needed _you_. I needed you to grieve with me. I needed you to hold me until I felt safe again. I needed you to remind me that everything would be ok, that we would be ok. I needed you to acknowledge it.” Tears begin to brim at the corner of Louis eyes, his voice shaky and small. “But instead you choose to pretend like she didn’t exist. Like she was never ours, like we never loved her. I wasn’t ready to move on, I wasn’t ready to pretend, I wasn’t ready to forget.” Slowly he breaks, silent tears rolling down the ripples of his face, pooling at his chin.

“I have never once forgotten her Louis, never. I see her face whenever I close my eyes. I hear her laugh echoing in my head every time I lay my head down to sleep. I smell her soft scent drifting past me as I walk through the door to our flat. I feel her little fingers reaching out to grab my hair. I will never forget her, I can’t. It just….it hurts…Louis,” Harry exhales his name out like a whispered prayer, an anguished sigh of despair. His eyes bristling with unshed tears. “it hurts so fucking bad. I want to scream bloody murder and gauge my eyes out if it would only ease the pain.”

No longer able to keep his emotions at bay, tears drip down his cheeks, staining little wet tracks along the contours of his profile. “I never meant to make you feel alone, I never meant to hurt you, I just…I,” Harry takes several deep breaths, in an attempt to calm himself down, “I just couldn’t deal with it. I still can’t.”

“I don’t know where to go from here.” Louis whispers as he hangs his head, voice hushed and defeated.

They sit together in silence with tearstained faces, ruddy cheeks and red bloodshot eyes. Both unsure of what happens next, both terrified to find out.

“Let’s go.” Harry prompts, his tone all of a sudden urgent and expectant.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, we should probably just go home. It’s getting late and I-”

“No, stop! You wrote a personal advertisement in the paper because you wanted to be free, because you needed to find something, to feel something you couldn’t understand, so let's go! Right now!” Harry urges, eyes wide and anxious. His eyes are met with a blank dazed stare.

“Anyone could have answered you Louis, anyone could have seen your column, and replied. Anyone could have ended up sitting right here with you in this very spot. But anyone didn't. I did. Me. Harry, your Harry, your husband. Your bumbling klutz of a husband somehow managed to find your advertisement and is now begging you to come away with him. We can do it, Lou, we can just go!"

“Go where  Harry?” Louis snaps, irritation lining his words, his eyes refocusing. “Where could we possibly go?” We can't escape from the life we are living! We can't just abandon ship and expect everything to just be ‘ok’!” He shouts as his voice gets progressively louder, his hands gesturing wildly in the air. “Reality doesn’t work that way! Look at us, Harry! We are siting in a bar on a Thursday night, covered in spilled soiled alcohol, with tears in our eyes, and to top it al-

“Goddammit, Louis!" Harry yells abruptly, slamming his hands down on the table, effectively cutting Louis off. “Let’s go somewhere with incredibly good tea! Somewhere that serves ‘Sex on the Beach’ on a beach we can actually have sex on! Somewhere with a gorgeous view that instantly takes our breath away! Somewhere we can stay up all night, dancing in the glow of the moonlight, waiting for the sun to bathe the world in a new set of bright colors.” Harry’s voice drops down to a normal octave as he reaches across the table and takes Louis hand in his. “Somewhere I can escape with you.”

Harry looks deep into the bright blue of Louis stunned eyes. “For 6 months we have been stuck in the same place yet drifting further away with each passing moment. For 6 months we have lost each other in a sea of hurt, in an ocean of pain and heartache. For 6 months we took comfort in feeling alone, in feeling empty in order to mask the damage inside. And for 6 months I have truly missed you Louis, missed us.”

“I’ve missed my best friend. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile and your stupid jokes. I miss you, Lou. I miss what we had before all of this. When it was just you and me against the world.” Harry tenderly runs thumb over the knuckles of Louis’ fingers.

“Lets start over, Louis. I love you more than I can convey in coherent sentences." Harry says with a sly wet smile, his eyes still glistening with tears. Run away with me love. We lost our way somewhere along the line, but let’s escape to find it. Say yes and we will figure it out as we go. You’re right, running won't make everything suddenly be ‘ok’. It won’t erase her, it won’t wipe away all the pain we have gone through, it won’t change the past, I know. But it will help us find each other again. I can’t escape this now unless you show me how.”

Louis gazes back at Harry whose expression is teeming with expectation, body thrumming with latent excitement. His eyes radiating with hopeful anticipation.

Louis opens his mouth to answer, then immediately shuts it, not fully certain what to say or how to convey a reply. His face carefully considering it all, taking it all in one moment at a time.

He looks down at their intertwined hands, at their tattoos that tell an untold story. He looks down at their matching platinum bands signifying the bond they have forged. They choose each other long ago. They choose their love. Through the aversions and prejudices. Through the late nights and hard times. Through the angry fights and unexpected loss. Through it all, they choose love.

He looks back up at his beautifully broken husband, who is viewing him like the sun rises and sets with him. Like without him, he will lose all the will he has left to keep breathing. Harry is looking at Louis like he is his entire world, his eyes overflowing with earnest adoration and heartfelt admiration. 

Louis would be completely lost without this man in front of him, a slave to the void. Maybe they won't find a place that has all of those things they wrote about. Maybe that place doesn’t even exist in reality. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Wherever they go, whatever happens next they will have each other. They will always have each other. _Forever_. The only escape they will ever have or ever need is in each other.  

“You are my _escape_.”

 

||||||

 

_“You can run away from yourself so often, and so much, just because the broken pieces of you cut your feet too deeply if you stay around for too long. But then what if someone were to come along and pick up those pieces for you? Then you wouldn't have to run away from yourself anymore. You could stop running. If someone sees you as something worth staying with— maybe you'll stay with yourself, too.”_

_–C. JoyBell, C._


End file.
